


We Could Be Gods

by Corvidae_Corvus



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Piano, Post-Reichenbach, violin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvidae_Corvus/pseuds/Corvidae_Corvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Micro-Fic head drabble<br/>Mycroft and Sherlock muse quietly over the limits and potential power they have individually, and together. Mycroft's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Be Gods

**Author's Note:**

> For your audio pleasure: http://open.spotify.com/track/6HSB8Xzf4mFODz1aQj9jDz

There was one sure fire away for the Holmes brothers to, when in close quarters, not start biting one another’s head off for one thing or another. That was precisely what they were doing now, Mycroft sitting at his piano and Sherlock standing nearby with his violin. It was safest this way, as neither man had been having a good week with the first stage of the plan coming to a close. Sherlock had taken his fall, Molly had appropriately held up her end, John was grieving, Lestrade was dealing with internal affairs, Mycroft was mitigating the damage.  
  
It had put both of the men’s positions in perspective. Sherlock with all of his abilities, able to fool the one man needed to be fooled in order for the whole world to believe a lie. Mycroft with all of his connections, carefully cutting the strings of a web decades old while letting certain people fall as gracefully as possible to the ground while allowing others to come crashing and breaking everything around them. Of course, it begged the question of how much power could they truly obtain if they wished.  
  
Sherlock, with his abilities and his need to never be bored… well, he could imagine Sherlock would be something akin to Moriarty. Perhaps better. Moriarty without the complete cruelty, simply a drive to rule the world. Shape it just so, break down structures and build them up simply to watch the dance. It would be an extension of what he did now, simply on a more selfish level. Until he was bored.  
  
And himself? He could see it as chess pieces, how to kill certain individuals to step just that much further into power. Working the system, truly becoming the system. Blackmail and bullets, not so much breaking things down as simply permitting them to fall. It would be an extension of what he did now, simply on a more selfish level. Until he was bored.  
  
Unless they were both in positions of such power. It brought to mind an image of them as children. It would be like playing together, what with their games and tricks and managing things just so, allowing things to fall and breaking them down. Clearing away space to let other ones build again.  
  
“We could be gods,” Mycroft said just loud enough to be heard in conjunction with the sound of both instruments.  
  
Sherlock knew what he was talking about, “What a wonderful image.”  
  
“A monstrous image.”  
“Remarkable.”  
“Abhorrent.”  
“Marvelous.”  
“Terrifying.”  
“Unimaginable.”  
“Overwhelming.”  
  
“Tempting.”  
  
Mycroft paused in his words, not in his playing. “…Yes. Very tempting.” Such an agreement would beg another question. They continued to play.


End file.
